


Professor Layton and the Common Cold

by LadyofHeart



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Gen, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 04:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15655851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyofHeart/pseuds/LadyofHeart
Summary: Luke gets sick, as kids often do, and is comforted by the professor.





	Professor Layton and the Common Cold

Luke was cleaning the professor’s office when he started to feel an uncomfortable itch in the back of his throat. He tried to ignore it as he rearranged books on archeology, the same way he had ignored the fatigue he woke up with that morning. They were all familiar symptoms of a common cold, but if he denied it maybe it would just stop. He didn’t have time to be sick! Between school, adjusting to London, and being the professor’s newly appointed (read: self-proclaimed) apprentice, there just simply wasn’t a moment to waste. The cold would have to wait.

The door opened behind him and he turned to see Emmy. “Oh!” She said, caught off guard by his presence. “Hello, Luke. I thought you would be at school.”

“It’s Saturday,” he answered. 

“So it is. You’re really taking this apprentice thing seriously, aren’t you?”

She was smiling at him in a way he was becoming familiar with. More of a cat-ish smirk than anything. “Of course I am! Besides,” he looked around. “The professor could use the extra hand.”

“Certainly not arguing there. Now, I’m headed home. Do you want me to take you back, too?”

“So early? It’s barely past noon. Where’s the professor?”

“He has one more lecture left, but it’ll be over soon, and he let me out early. Are you sure you don’t want to go home?” She looked at the pile of books he had been messing around with. “Or an extra helper?”

“I can handle it. Thanks anyways.”

She hesitated before giving a shrug. “Alright, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She closed the door on her way out. 

There were still plenty of things left to organize. He had already separated books by genre, but should he split that alphabetically? He would have to ask the professor what he prefered when he got back. The fatigue was really starting to set in now, as was that uncomfortable sore throat. Tea seemed like too much effort, and he wasn’t as big a fan anyway, so he sat himself down on the couch to catch his breath. 

He looked at what he accomplished so far. He didn’t even like cleaning up, but when he first walked into the office he had been overwhelmed by how chaotic it was. It was the last thing he expected from a refined gentleman like Professor Layton. Now, it was manageable, but the professor was always adding something new. It reminded him of the odds and ends his mother would bring home on occasion. 

The couch was much more comfortable than he remembered. He didn’t know when the professor’s lecture would end, and he had done a fair amount of cleaning. He would close his eyes for a little bit, that’s all, and hopefully wake with the fatigue and sore throat gone. He could at least count on the professor to come and wake him when he was done.

 

When Luke did wake up, he felt worse than before. The fatigue converted into a pounding headache and swallowing was painful. He was reluctant to open his eyes and worsen the headache, but there was something heavy sitting over him that hadn't been there before. He looked down to see a black coat over him. In his sleep, he had nestled up in a corner of the couch, and the coat had been put over him like a blanket. The noon light had converted to sunset, basking the office in a warm orange glow.  
He blinked a few times. This was the professor’s coat. He turned to see the professor was at his desk, looking at fossils no doubt, and wearing his orange shirt. It looked odd. He wasn’t used to seeing him without the coat.

The professor heard his rustling and faced him with a smile. “Ah, glad to see you awake, Luke. I was going to wake you earlier, but you looked rather comfortable so I didn’t want to bother you.”

He opened his mouth to tell him that was fine, but all that came out was a croak. This sore throat was really getting to him!

“Are you quite alright, my boy?” He got up from his desk and kneeled in front of him, concern flooding his expression.

Luke rubbed his eyes. “Just tired,” he said once he was sure he could gain control of his voice. It did nothing to stave the professor’s worry. “Really, I’m fine. What’re you working on?”

“You look unwell,” he said, ignoring his question. He reached out and put his hand to Luke’s forehead, coming away with a disappointed sigh. “You have a fever. If I had known you were sick, I would have sent you home with Emmy.”

Luke shrugged. “It’s not that bad. I don’t have to go home yet, do I?” He didn’t mean to sound so sad, but his weak voice and blurry eyes seemed to soften the professor’s face. 

He sighed again. “I can make you some tea to see if that helps. Is your throat bothering you as well?”

“A bit.”

He set to work on the tea set he always kept in his office. Already, Luke was drifting back off to sleep, but resisted. If he fell asleep again, he would definitely be whisked home, and he still wanted to stay.

The professor returned with a piping hot cup and took a seat next to him. Luke sat up, the coat falling off of him, and accepted it. He ignored that his hands were a little shaky and sipped. It was sweetened with honey just to his like and instantly soothed his aching throat. 

He smiled. “Thank you, professor.”

“I’m always here to help, but you should have said something earlier. I know Emmy stopped by the office.”

“I wasn’t feeling all that bad,” he said. “Just a little tired. I’m sorry if I stopped you from working.”

“Actually,” he looked to the table in front of the couch. Luke had left the books he was stacking there, and the professor picked one off the top. “It’s a good thing you did. I need to reread this for tomorrow’s lecture and I would have neglected to do so had I kept working on the fossil.”

He sipped his tea and moved closer to the professor to read over his shoulder, his cheek pressing against him. “It’s more archeology, right? I was going to organize it alphabetically but…”

“That’s alright, my boy. You can focus on all that when you’re feeling better.” He opened the book. “When you’re up for it, I’ll take you home.”

Luke nodded, not wanting to irritate his throat anymore. He placed his cup of tea on the table but was quick to nestle back up against the professor and wrap the coat around himself. Despite the warm drink, he was shivering. 

“Luke, if you want to leave now-” He grumbled in response. The professor chuckled. “I’ll let that pass, seeing as you’re not in prime condition.” Luke nodded again, his hat sliding off his head. The professor slipped it off and placed it on the table. They settled into a comfortable silence, his eyes growing heavy all the while. He couldn’t claim he was comfortable, he was still sick, but he did feel safe and cozy in this office. There was something emotional about the silence, tucked close and with the professor’s arm wrapped around him.

He wondered what was happening back at Misthallery. He had been gone for a month already. How was Arianna fairing? And Tony? Was Crow still up to his antics? Some days he still couldn’t believe his six-month nightmare was over. The lonely nights spent wondering where his mother was and harboring anger toward his father were gone, washed away in a few short days by the professor. His thankfulness knew no bounds, and in his fevery haze, he was overcome with emotion about it all.

“Professor?”

“What is it, Luke?”

“Thank you,” he managed. The professor said nothing, only rubbing calming circles on his back. He buried his face in his shirt and closed his eyes, losing his fight against sleep.

 

The doorbell rang, and seeing as Brenda was busy fussing over Luke, that left Clark to put down his morning paper and answer. Standing there was a familiar face coupled with a familiar top hat.

“Ah, Hershel! What brings you here this fine morning?” He backed out of the doorway to let his friend inside.

“Good morning, Clark. I came to say hello and see how Luke was doing.”

“He’s improved since you brought him. Come,” Clark closed the front door, “I’ll bring you to his room. Seeing you ought to raise his spirits. He hates being trapped indoors, even if he is sick.”

Luke was resting in his bed, Brenda at his side. He looked pale and tired, but his eyes lit up when he saw Hershel. He had looked much worse when Hershel pulled up in his junky little car two nights ago. He was barely awake, wrapped up in the professor’s coat, and sweating from a harsh fever. He knew his old friend long enough to recognize the worry in his expression, but colds were nothing to stress about. He had probably just picked it up from school.

“Hello, Professor!” Luke greeted him with cheer, but his voice was hoarse and nearly gone. 

“Hello Luke, Brenda. It’s nice to see you looking better, my boy.”

“How are things at Gressenheller?”

“Functioning, though Emmy misses you and sends her regards.”

“More like she misses teasing me.” Luke smiled. “I’ll be back soon!”

Hershel chuckled. “We’re looking forward to it.”

“Do you have any puzzles for me?”

“Actually,” there was a small sniffle, “That’s why I came. I knew you might be a little bored on your road to recovery.”

“Hershel,” Brenda said, interrupting his impending puzzle. “Was that a sniffle?”

“Are you feeling alright, old bean?” Clark asked.

“Oh, I’m fine, I’m sure it’s just allergies or the like.”

“Oh no!” Luke exclaimed, his little voice cracking. “Did I get you sick, Professor?”

“I assure you all, I am not ill.”

Brenda crossed her arms. “Not that you were ever one to admit to being sick in the first place.”

He mimicked her position. “I’m not trying to incite worry. You have your hands full with Luke. But I’ll take today easy.”

“I trust your spunky assistant won’t let you exert yourself,” said Clark. 

“I can’t believe I got you sick,” murmured Luke.

“It’s alright, Luke.”

 

But a few days later, Clark was hearing from his son how Hershel was sick with a fever and sore throat, and the role of caretaking quickly reversed.

**Author's Note:**

> I recently beat Azran and I have emotions??? I'm so sad that I played these games late, the fandom is so small right now... But I love the mentor/mentee relationship Luke and Layton have. I do NOT love having to type out 'the professor' every time Luke refers to him from his P.O.V........


End file.
